


Queen of Ashes

by Ramzes



Series: Days That Never Were [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi, dark themes, discontent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-09-26 23:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9933770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramzes/pseuds/Ramzes
Summary: "Your father," Daena spat, looking at the little boy crawling after a puppy, "is a swindler." The story of Daena the Defiant. Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms, Queen of Vengeance, Queen of Ashes.





	1. Chapter 1

"Your father," Daena spat, looking at the little boy crawling after a puppy, "is a swindler."

Rhaena gasped. "Daena! This isn't how one speaks!"

"This isn't what one does!" Daena fired back, grabbed the nearest pillow, and threw it against the wall. It rebounded, falling straight on Daemon who started crying. "Stop it, _stop it_!"

Her voice turned into a shrill scream that only made her son cry harder. Barba Bracken hurried to take him over before he had crawled out through the open door and Daena felt something dark and powerful ripping her chest, demanding to be released. "Get out," she snarled.

The girl turned and gave her a look of such confused innocence that Daena lost whatever slim grip of self-possession she still had. "I said, get out!" She rose, as if ready to lunge at her preferred companion and put her own words in force. "Get out! Out of my sight! If I ever lay eyes on you again, I'll rip you to pieces!"

Rhaena had jumped to her feet but looked unsure where to point her steps at. Barba had stopped dead in her tracks, the fear on her face filling Daena with some beastly delight. Daemon was whimpering softly. The two women looked as if they had understood what she said no better than the child but the meaning was clear on them. Details didn't matter. Daena couldn't believe the sounds coming from her mouth, let alone control them. She made a step forward and Barba fled, not even bothering to think of the shortest route leading out of Daena's new chambers. She only wanted to put as much distance between her mistress and herself as she could.

Daena's knees suddenly gave up and she groped for the nearest chair. Rhaena helped her get there, brought her some tea and hesitated with her hand over her sister's hair but eventually brought it down without touching the fair locks. Clever Rhaena.

"What was all this about?" her sister asked after a while.

"She's Aegon's mistress! She has been one for _years_!"

Rhaena looked confused. "Even so, what of it?"

Daena started pacing again, only stopping from time to time to check on Daemon and the puppy in the next hall. "The two of them set me up for this, I'm sure," she said. "To make certain that I'd never be able to sit the Iron Throne. After all, who wants a whore for queen?"

There were some and for this, she was grateful. But they were so few. So very few. Despite what people thought about her, Daena was a responsible person. She'd never make trouble that she couldn't fix – and demanding her father's and brothers' throne would be such trouble, now that she was the mother of a bastard.

"Damn you, Aegon!" she whispered but it was her own cheeks that her nails scraped to blood. She should have known. She should have questioned this amazing occurrence of meeting him right after one of her escapes – an escape arranged with Barba's help.

She paced and raged, raged and paced. Behind the window, a red sun slowly went down the horizon. _At least my windows aren't barred anymore_ , Daena tried to comfort herself.

"This isn't the end, Aegon," she vowed. "You will get your due, I swear it."

He would. She only didn't know how – yet.

* * *

Her uncle listened to her patiently. And incredulously. As Daena moved to the end of the prepared speech, his patience started wearing out. Daena wondered what his schedule for this part of the day was, what he was delaying right now because of her. An inspection of the City Watch? A meeting with this boring Master of Coin?

"Forget about it," he only said when she was over.

This much about her eloquence winning him over! "But why?" Daena asked. To her shock, his rejection stung. Why should it? He was a stern, tedious man and she didn't care if he desired her. She knew that he didn't. Gossip said that for the last ten years, he had only had one mistress, as old as him and not even very pretty. It was clear that he was unable to appreciate beauty. But to be rejected this blatantly stung her pride that had not recovered yet from the blow Aegon had dealt it. _It's my turn now, Aegon._ Her fists clenched and unclenched as she asked in a voice that she deemed admirably level, "May I know why?"

"Because you're a child."

"I _have_ a child," she reminded him and then realized that perhaps it wasn't the best argument to offer a man who had become a father at thirteen.

"You're a young woman," Viserys insisted. "And I am no longer young. You want to take everything that life has kept from you until now…"

_Life? Or Baelor?_ But asking this wouldn't exactly convince him that she was a woman who _knew_ things.

"… and I want to take care of peace, profit, stability and other boring things. Where do you think our paths will cross?"

She didn't care if their paths would cross. She planned for the future…

"And I am not planning on dying anytime soon, you know."

Daena gaped at him, horrified that she might have spoken aloud. But her uncle didn't look angry. He was smiling at her almost… almost the way he smiled at Daeron's Dornish brat, with his peasant olive skin!

"I've seen four young women this far who married old men expecting to become rich widows soon. The husbands are all still alive, some twenty years later, and the wives are cursing their lot. This isn't what I want for you."

Startled laughter escaped her lips and she saw that he was fighting a smile as well. Yes, now she could see the man who had sometimes – sometimes – made her father laugh. She hadn't laughed in so long that it didn't matter the laugh was at her expense.

"I want to be Queen," she said bluntly. "I _deserve_ to be Queen."

The fierceness in her voice made him pause. He gave her a long look. "And mother of kings, I suppose? Is this your way to get even with Aegon?"

She gasped, a new suspicion immediately taking place. "Did you put him up to this?"

"No," Viserys replied calmly. "In fact, I didn't even know for before you told me right now."

What a fool she was! But he, he was no one's fool. He could see her as she was – her passion, her vengefulness. They didn't seem to bother him but… "I'll find you a husband," he said.

"Someone lowly enough to never make waves?" Daena asked bitterly. He didn't even answer.

"Someone young and vigorous," he finally said. "Someone who can give you your heart's desire… when you wake up to it."

Heart's desire? Did he still think her a child? Did he think her unworthy of being taken seriously because he thought she'd like to build her life on the foundation of her _heart's_ desire? He had treated his own children with more respect when they had been ten years younger than she was now!

"You do look vigorous enough," she said with the same maddeningly reasonable voice that he used.

Viserys shook his head. "That I can still wear the attires I did in my twenties is different from actually being twenty. I am an aging man who won't get any younger and you have a lifetime ahead of you."

Somewhere in her mind, a warning bell sounded but Daena ignored it. Aegon would not have his way after outwitting her. "Take me to wife," she said again. "I can deal with ruling the court. I can shoulder the festive part that you disdain. I _can_ be of use."

"You will never be a mother of kings, Daena," the current King replied but Daena felt that a shift had taken place. For a reason of his own, he wasn't as reticent about the idea as he had been mere moments ago. "And I will not give her up."

_We'll see,_ Daena thought. _About both._

* * *

The helpless fury on Aegon's face made it all worthwhile. And when she entered the throne room, a real queen for the first time, and everyone bowed to her as deeply as they once had to her mother, Daena felt thoroughly happy. The small shivers of contentment when she made the Dornish witch do small things for her instead of her attendants were very satisfying… until Viserys caught her doing it.

"You're very good at it, Mariah," he said. "But I don't want you to do any such thing ever again. Daena has enough servants."

His eyes sent Daena the clear message that she'd better not contradict him. She didn't look down but followed his wish… in fact, she found herself following his wishes more often than she'd like! She dreamed of a magnificent court but one of the first things he did was reorganizing the royal household, erasing offices and cutting expenses.

At least he had never mentioned of sending Daemon away and for this, Daena was grateful. But it was clear that he wasn't interested in the boy, not the way he was in Baelor's growing up and activities. Sometimes, to her shame, _she_ thought of settling Daemon comfortably away. She was so tired of the whispers, so tired of being defiant…

Months went by and Daena's world grew increasingly narrow. Viserys hadn't forbidden her to carry arms, not with those words, but she was painfully aware that it was unbefitting a queen, especially such a scandalous one as her. And honestly, who had the time? With accepting applicants and organizing festivities in honour of this or that arrival, she considered herself lucky when she found the time for an hour or two for a ride. Before she got with child.

Now, Aegon's face turned unpleasantly red when he saw her. He wasn't handsome. Daena couldn't fathom why she had once considered him so. It was clear that he'd like nothing more than have her flogged. Or wallop her. Or both. His helpless fury amused her as the child grew and she knew that she'd give Viserys a son, a son who'd be more royal than Aegon. A son who would one day be king.

At night, though… Her uncle had turned out to be right. She didn't want someone twice her age. She wanted to host great receptions every night and dance until dawn while he rarely stayed even until midnight – after which it was, of course, indecent for a queen to stay and celebrate on her own. Especially the Whore Queen! And when she left, it sometimes happened that he didn't even visit her chambers! Daena knew where he was – with his harlot at Rhaenys' Hill… _Very well,_ she thought angrily. _Let her deal with his moroseness and unwillingness to do anything else but sit around. Let her have his back pains and insomnia! I have my jewels, I have my place, and I can always return to the reception…_ but of course, she never did.

When he did come to her, Daena was happy. He was attentive. He was careful to pleasure her, something that Aegon, in their brief fling, had never done and yet immediately after, his thoughts drifted away. Daena hated opening her eyes because then she'd see his indifference – and his looks. It turned out that she didn't want to see sagging skin, protruding veins and all other changes age wrought. She wanted what she saw between Daeron and his Dornish snake – shared smiles, strolls in the gardens, little touches when they thought no one was watching, adoring looks. And when she thought about it, she was quick to scold herself. This was for lesser people. Not dragons. Not queens.

And still, time went on and as her body changed with the new child, she knew that she wasn't getting anywhere with her attempts to convince Viserys of just how unsuitable an heir Aegon was – although sometimes she thought he knew it better than her, he waited for some unknown reason, he was doing something that she had no idea of – or sway him from the aging woman he was so ridiculously devoted to. It was beyond the pale: he preferred a plain woman of age to his beautiful young queen. Soon, Daena would become the laughingstock of Westeros! But still, there was this hope swelling inside her. The promise for the future. Her triumph.

When the maester lifted the newborn in the air and announced, "It's a girl, Your Grace, a lovely girl!", it took all of Daena's willpower not to howl. A girl! A girl! All her dreams lost. All her hopes burn.

_Why? Why? Why?!_

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Baelorfan, mad_troll, and Aurora_Martell, for commenting!

"Do you not have milk?"

Viserys' question made her look up from examining her jewels and deciding which ones to put for the evening feast. Her father's pendant, of course, she never took this one off but what else? The ruby bracelet? The sapphire ring? She focused on the King's question. "A wetnurse will be better," she said curtly and just like she expected, that shut him up immediately. What did he know about babes? Not that this one made her presence very obvious. As soon as she had a breast to suck on, she was happy and she didn't care if it was her mother's or the wetnurse. As far as Daena could say, she was going to fall asleep any moment now.

Daena had fed Daemon on her breast but then she had had no pressing need to stop. Now, it was different. She couldn't get with child again if she nursed this one and she intended to rock a new cradle this time next year, with a son in it.

"She's so lovely," her aunt Rhaena said softly as she rocked the babe in her arms to sleep when it was only Daena and other women again, as if something terrible would happen if she resumed her life at court before her babe's presentation. "Such a nice babe, aren't you, Alysanne?"

Daena had to admit that when she managed to forget her disappointment, her daughter did look quite a dearie, all soft skin and fair hair in such a perfect blend of silver and gold that Daena was quite sorry knowing that soon, it would fall off. "She doesn't cry much," she agreed.

"I know," Rhaena agreed and Daena glanced at her, surprised. "Did Viserys tell you this?" she asked. It was not like him to share such details. The surprise was even greater because he didn't show much interest in the babe. He had never wanted to hold her, for one.

Her aunt sighed. "So he's still like this?" she asked. "I hoped he might have left it behind."

Daena's curiosity got the better of her, although she kept vowing that she'd act like a queen and not a curious little girl, and Rhaena looked sad as she recounted the story of Naerys as a babe, how she had almost stopped breathing as Viserys had been holding her. Since then, he had never touched a babe unless absolutely necessary. _Even Daeron's Dornish brat?_ Daena wanted to ask but didn't. Her disdain for Naerys only grew. _But now I gave him a daughter who won't be weak and sickly, won't divide her life between maesters and prayers. She'll make a worthier queen than Naerys could ever hope to be. She only needs a brother._

* * *

Before the presentation of little Alysanne, Daena seriously considered taking a tea that would calm her nerves in advance because she could already see Aegon's smirk and it would not do to lunge at him. Instead, she kept to her dignity, her knowledge of her progressing recovery and her certainty that soon, she'd be with a child again, a son. _It isn't over, Aegon._

"Alysanne," he drawled. "What better name for a queen?"

"None, indeed," Daena agreed levelly, looking at his mocking eyes with all the composure she could squeeze from her core. Reminding herself that soon, she'd swell with the king for this small silver queen that she could not help but love, despite the disappointment that she was.

* * *

Daemon didn't like his sister very much. "Make her stop!" he begged when the babe cried all the way through his first visit with her and Daena had just started to realize that perhaps asking at what time the newborn could be expected to eat before scheduling this visit would not have been such a bad idea. Now, Alysanne scream-cried and Daena foolishly had given the wetnurse some time out of the nursery so she couldn't even call her back. The only other option was to unwrap her own heavily swaddled breast that had started getting wet in response of the crying and feed her daughter but after such a thing, it would be harder for her milk to dry up, so she just tried to explain to her son that his new sister was pretty and he should love her. With Alysanne all red face and screams that made Daemon cover his ears and Daena wish to do the same, it wasn't easy. But when Alysanne went to sleep, exhausted with crying, and Daena lifted her from the cradle, Daemon looked awed. "She tiny," he said, drawing a hand down her cheek. Then, Daena had to stop him from poking her in the eye, just to see what she would do. "I big," he went on.

"You're big, yes," Daena agreed, feeling incredibly guilty. Since her wedding, she had barely had the time to look in the nursery and she was now reluctant to go out with Daemon, even in the gardens. Ashamed. When he was not the one to blame. She hadn't missed his reticence with her, almost as if he had forgotten her. A queen and a bastard did not belong in the same sentence and when they did, the realm wept. As her grandmother had proven.

But when she tried to talk to Viserys about making proper accommodations for Daemon, his ideas of proper always differed from her very much, no matter if he listened to her and patiently addressed her arguments or sat in his chair wearily, talking to her without actually paying attention, staring at a vision of a Westeros, a vision that was so great that she could not fathom it. Not at her at all.

Daemon would never be a great lord. Sometimes, Daena wondered why she had deluded herself that things might be different and yet offense raged in her veins, kept her awake in the snowy nights of the cold winter: to her lord husband, her son was no different than Aegon's bastards from that blacksmith's wife.

The son she now carried would change things… once he ascended.

* * *

The first time Daena saw Viserys hold Alysanne, she smiled. Until she saw that Mariah and her swarthy brat were there as well. Mariah showed her son how to caress the babe's cheek and he was grinning, repeating, "Ress, ress, ress!" Both Viserys and Mariah smiled.

_Can't he say_ caress, Daena wondered and then remembered that Daemon didn't know all his words either. She entered, trying not to shoot forward and snatch her babe away from the two pairs of dark hands. If she did, Viserys would get angry with her or worse, he'd say that he couldn't wait for her to grow up.

The wetnurse and Baelor's nursemaid rose from the corner and curtsied. Mariah followed – and in the brief moment when she left her son unattended, Baelor managed to take one of his shoes off and shove it at the babe. Viserys stopped his hand but the little demon tried to duck under the King's arm, seemingly determined that the shoe belonged with the babe.

"Baelor!" Mariah said sharply, spinning him around and making him look her in the eye. "This isn't the way to show how much you like Alysanne!"

His face fell. "It isn't?" he asked and Daena failed to suppress her laughter. What kind of demon was he? Why, the child one!

From this day on, she became strangely reconciled with the dark boy's presence in the Red Keep. He wasn't _this_ bad. And when her son was born, everything would fall in place.

* * *

She didn't dare tell anyone that she was with child. She wasn't sure. Alysanne was just five moons old and that onetime blood that had appeared on Daena's smallclothes only to disappear in a few days could have been related to the childbirth, not a new child. Her belly was not flat but that could be ascribed to Alysanne as well. Sometimes, Daena wondered if she was going mad with this desire for a son as soon as possible, now if not yesterday! Was Aegon worth so much anguish?

At least Viserys had started noticing her. Not loving her but love, she did not expect and she did not desire. And he visited his whore as often as ever. But he had started noticing Daena. Staying with her and Alysanne when he didn't leave the Red Keep at night. Asking questions about her receptions of Essosi ambassadors. Telling her about his reforms before he even told the Small Council. Daena even hoped that soon, she'd be able to get rid of that irrational feeling that she was a child whose knowledge was being checked. _Is it him being so much older? Or he being my uncle? Or him being him?_ Whatever it was, Daena now had a better idea why he had been hesitant in the beginning to accept her. Why _had_ he accepted?

"I'd like you to have a look at this," he said one night; curious, Daena approached his writing table and saw the lists and sketches strewn in front of him. Weapons. She looked at him. "What is this?"

"I intend to make a new law. Every man of certain age in the Crownsland that is capable of bearing arms will be taught to use them for a certain period every year. What weapons would you consider sensible?"

"For the smallfolk?" Daena asked, astounded. And then, "Oh! You intend to make an army that you can use? Not rely on knights and hirelings alone? And you intend to keep this army ready to fight by annual drills?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

"How… magnificently," she managed.

His eyes did not leave her. "How stupid, you mean," he said and waved her denials away. "It doesn't matter. I didn't expect you to like it. Will you give me your input on no?"

She did. And as she did, day by day, she found herself invested in this foolish, daring venture of his. The thought that the lords would not like it gave her a secret thrill, although not as great as the confirmation of her growing with child indeed did.

* * *

She enjoyed the rage in Aegon's eyes at the proclamation. How he went out of his way to put her down whenever possible – it felt so nice to be able to dismiss him as the pest he was! And she cherished the memory of his bow, forced and painful, as Viserys sent him away to Dragonstone in disgrace and refusing to pay his bills anymore. "If he has a copper star, he'll spend a dragon and promise you the rest," Viserys told Daena briskly. "I am not putting up with this any longer."

For the first time since she remembered her controlled, rigid uncle, his voice showed an undisguised wave of pain and failure. She looked away, feeling uncomfortable, and for the first time did not feel resentment when after the evening feast, he headed for Rhaenys' Hill. She wouldn't know how to offer comfort even if she could force herself to want that. But all she wanted was to scream at him to come back to himself. He wasn't supposed to be like this. He had always been strong, energetic, indomitable.

All she wanted? No. She wanted those new wrinkles of heartbreak to disappear. She wanted him to be fine. Because for the first time, she truly realized that she had thrown her lot with a man whose protection might end much sooner than expected. Even the Old King had gone senile at the end. Who could say that Viserys would always be there to shield her? _I am not twenty,_ he had told her but her desire to get even with Aegon had blinded her to it.

* * *

Daeron was sent to the Riverlands. From there, he would go to the Vale. As if he were making a progression. And Daena sat frozen, finally realizing the true extent of the King's duplicity. He pretended to value her. Respect her. Give her responsibilities. She worked to the best of her efforts – but for whom? For Daeron! A hunt through the documents Viserys thought would not interest her, so he left them unattended when with her confirmed her suspicions.

"You intend to make him your Hand and heir, don't you?" she asked one night as Viserys lifted Alysanne in the air, took her down and then back up.

He didn't try to deny it. "That has been my intention since Baelor's death," he said.

Shame burned within her. He had used her just like his son had! Oh his ways were more respectable and because of this, more cruel. "You only wed me to give Aegon something to focus his mind at and not see that it's his son he should be aware of."

Viserys ground his teeth. "This ridiculous hostility you hold for Daeron must end! He never wanted to deprive you of anything. And to the best of my knowledge, Mariah has never insulted you either."

"Not overtly," Daena said, although she did not mention her own barbs at the Dornish woman.

"She's smart enough not to antagonize the Queen. And you'd be smart not to antagonize the queen in waiting."

_As to this, we'll see_ , Daena thought but this time, she knew better than start dreaming of things that might never come. The child might turn out another girl.

* * *

From this day on, her aversion to Viserys that had never been fully gone returned with vengeance. She noticed every flaw of his, every small failing. And because of her anger, it took her some time to realize that he had not suddenly decided to let himself go and indulge in gluttony. That the physical changes that repulsed her so were due to decline in health – and she got scared. She was a woman with two small children at her arms and a third one in her womb and all she had was the protection of a man who grew increasingly unable to leave his bed as fevers came and went and his skin turned ashen and shining, so very shining.

_Aegon_ , was Daena's first thought because he had returned from Dragonstone without permission, as if he knew his father would be unable to evict him again. But was he this evil? This heartless? Of course he was!

Still, she refused to go down without a fight. She changed all of Viserys' sheets, everything that touched his skin. She ordered an additional surveillance of the preparation of his meals. She had his bedchamber aired regularly.

Nothing helped.

"Get out!" Daena yelled at the Grand Maester who was muttering something about a sickness that he had never seen. _Because it's no sickness, you fool!_

"Bring her here," Daena told Aemon immediately afterwards. "The whore. She's one of those he calls for most often. Let him see her."

She was desperate enough to try anything that might make Viserys a little better.

When the Hightower woman left Viserys' chambers after leaving him in his most comfortable and uninterrupted dream in weeks, her face was as grey as his. "This is poison," she said. "I don't care what the maesters say – he has been poisoned. His organs refuse to work."

Daena's relief was as overwhelming as it was shameful. It was terrible to feel glad that her husband was indeed a victim of poison but at night… Those nights she had spent pacing around her bedchamber, her bare feet feeling the cold marble even through the thick carpet, with a hand on her belly to hush the kicking babe and wondering if she was going mad, maddened by her past, by Aegon's betrayal, by the disappointment of Alysanne being a girl… All maesters said it was an illness, although Aemon did not look convinced, if the way he sometimes went to oversee the preparation of his father's meals was any indication. To hear her suspicion confirmed, even by this woman, felt like the most wonderful thing.

"Go back," she said and sighed. "He's going to wake up soon and he's going to look for you."

In the face of the uncertain future that awaited her, Viserys' whore was the least one of her worries. She was surprised to feel satisfied by the small bit of charity undermining her more selfish reasons to want the woman here. And the expression on the other one's face as she curtsied and entered the royal bedchamber again shook her to the core. "She… loves him," Daena realized and for some reason, that didn't look as ridiculous and grotesque as before.

"Yes," Aemon agreed softly. "She does."

"What are the two of you talking about?"

Aegon's voice startled them both. He approached, silver and golden, and magnificent, and made Daena a mocking bow. "Your Grace," he said. "I did not expect to see you here."

She couldn't think of a crushing reply.

His eyes fell on her belly, visibly curved under her robes, and he smiled. "I'd recommend that you go to your chambers, my lady," he said. "It isn't good for the babe."

Daena's hand instinctively went to her belly and he stalked away, glad that he had managed to frighten her so.

* * *

The woman disappeared from the King's chambers a few days later – and the first thing Daena did was to check the valuables. A few chains, a silver ewer with inlaid emeralds, the silk covers of the chairs… The whore had taken nothing.

"I sent her away," Viserys said as he watched her from the bed. "Aegon may decide that he needs someone to blame for my demise. She'll make an easy scapegoat."

Daena paused, giving herself a mental kick again. When would she learn to never underestimate Aegon's capacity for villainy? Suddenly, she felt even more vulnerable.

"Do not fear," Viserys said softly. "Daeron will come. And when he does, Aegon's absolute rule here will be challenged."

"Daeron!" Daena almost scoffed but remembered just in time that she was at the bedside of a dying man.

Now, Viserys' bloated, discoloured face showed the signs of the most fierce rage that she had seen in him for… forever. He tried to rise, almost did so. "You must stop with your childish grudges! Right now, Daeron is your best chance to get some protection from Aegon! Or are you ready to throw the children and yourself at his feet and trust his mercy?"

Daena laughed out loud, angrily. "And why do you think Daeron will want to protect me? Because you asked him to?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Viserys said tiredly, his anger disappearing as quickly as it had come. "But he will do it because he won't stand for injustice. That's who he is. And you can be of good use for him as well."

_Of course,_ Daena thought. _Alysanne._ Her silver daughter would make a lovely queen to Daeron's Dornish son. It was strange how at this moment, the idea did not sound as atrocious as it had just a month ago. She leaned over and touched Viserys' hand. "I… I will think about it."

He nodded. Was he aware that it would be too much to expect a full turn, or was he too tired to continue the conversation? "Now go," he said. "Get some rest. And try not to worry too much. You've already been through so much."

She stared at him, hoping that the tears would not fall. She did not speak because her throat felt constricted. He grasped the covers and grimaced as if he was fighting an excruciating pain but a little later, he relaxed. "What a pity," he murmured. "What a pity that I was so much older than you."

Once again, she touched his hand.

"Do not come here anymore," he said in a sudden burst of energy. "The child should not feel the breath of the Stranger."

"I won't," Daena replied, or at least thought that she replied. Despite everything, she still hoped that the indomitable Viserys she had always known would not be defeated this time either.

Less than a week later, he was.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented, you're such a great help!

Naerys arrived from Dragonstone two days before her father's death, looking every bit as sick as him, as pale as him, her belly swollen with child, like his was swollen with the water poison caused to gather in his body. Compared to her, Daena looked like health itself. She sincerely doubted that Naerys would carry this babe to term – why would she? She had never had much luck with her children.

Like he had done with Daena, Viserys did not want his daughter to go close to the Stranger so Naerys and Daena passed each other as they paced the vast antechamber. Neither of them dared look at the other. For the first time, they shared the same fear. They didn't dare look at Aemon either. Daena did not know Naerys' reasons but for herself, she knew that should she see the famed Dragonknight's fear, she'd collapse on the floor and start howling.

Mariah joined them often and Naerys always looked grateful and relieved to see her. She held her goodmother's hands, talked to her softly with her strange accent and Daena could almost think she genuinely loved Naerys, instead of faking fondness. Still, sometimes Mariah's calming mask slipped and Daena could see her real face – sallow-grey with fear, grief, and longing for Daeron to return as behind the heavy doors, the only person save for Naerys who loved and protected her in the Red Keep, now filled with Aegon's men, lay dying.

Now, Daena only returned to her chambers for a few hours of restless sleep and to ask after the children. She never came early enough to see them awake but she was not sorry. She was unable to pay attention to anything else but the agony taking place behind those double doors.

At least Aegon never tried to come near. Daena didn't know if it was fear of the gods or fear to meet Aemon now, before he became King. Either way, she was glad.

At the end, it was only her aunt Rhaena who was with Viserys at the end. Daena only needed one look at her face to know that it was over. She didn't ask who he had been talking about in his last hours. She was afraid Amara Hightower's name would come first while hers might not figure at all.

"Come here," Rhaena told her softly and took her arm to lead her to her chambers. Daena glanced at her, surprised.

"Won't you go with Naerys?" she asked. "I'm fine."

And she was. Perhaps she would mourn Viserys later, or perhaps fear would come back in a rush so powerful that it would strike her dead. But now, she only felt some dull relief that it was over. This terrible waiting for the end while still hoping against hope for a miracle was now gone. She was free and freedom made her numb.

"Naerys has Mariah," Rhaena said. "Let's go."

_And I have no one._ Elaena was at Driftmark, busy to take everything life had withheld from her for so long. Rhaena was at Oldstown where her faith had sent her. Their mother was here, pacing the antechambers with them but Daena could not forget that she had let Baelor do this to them. She was now as helpless as Mariah who at least had Daeron's return to look up to.

The late afternoon sun veiled her aunt's face in a soft golden-reddish hue but her eyes were still hers – purple and full of sympathy. "Let me take care of you, child," Rhaena said softly. "You need it."

Daena squeezed her hand back and let her take her to her chambers where she curled in a ball in her bed and Rhaena heaped a mountain of covers over her – a mountain that did not help her trembling at all. She refused to have her curtains drawn and from her bed, she only stared and stared at the red walls, just as red as before, the shining sun that kept shining, and she couldn't imagine how everything might look as it always did when the very earth had just lost its centre. Soon, the realm would shake and somehow, nothing spoke of it. How was it possible?

She only went to sleep when those blessed tears came – and she didn't know if they were for Viserys or herself.

* * *

The next morning, she waited for Naerys. Surely she would come to see her? But she didn't. Only Aegon arrived to inform her in person that the preparations for Viserys' funeral had already started. He'd be burned in the Targaryen fashion as soon as all Lords Paramount , the urn with his ashes placed where all Targaryen kings from Aegon the Conqueror lay for a rest. The event would be marked with seven days of mourning on top of the one that was being currently held.

"You're so generous," Daena said caustically. He looked so handsome in his royal mantle, his hair a crown of silver and gold, that every other woman would fall at his feet. Daena only felt revulsion.

Her helpless anger only served to amuse him. "This I am," he agreed and looked at her belly. "I will be generous to your children as well. You can entrust them into my care without any worry. I'll love them as much as I love my own dear, dear brother and sister."

The threat he did not even try to hide made her stiffen as her mind went in a hurry over all things that could happen to a babe. Dying in the cradle? Falling on his head? She looked him in the eye. _Don't you dare cross me, Daena,_ he was saying without actually saying it. Then, his eyes became soft. _Do as I say, and you and your children will be fine._ For the briefest of moments, she was so tempted to believe him – and then she remembered that he was a liar, a manipulator, a kingslayer and a kinslayer.

"If I were you, I wouldn't rub shoulders with the wrong people," he warned softly.

The wrong people! She simply _had_ to find them… and declare her intentions clearly. "I'll only see Mariah," she promised because she suspected that Naerys was prevented from coming to her.

"I wouldn't rub shoulders with the wrong people," Aegon warned and left. Daena slowly lowered herself into a chair, the horror of this new realization shaking her worse than any cold. He believed her to be more powerful than she was – and that would make her worthier of his consideration and hostility. He would never let her be, not until her babe was born – and turned out to be a girl. But if it was a boy? What then?

* * *

When the second day came with no Naerys in sight, Daena knew what was going on but to test her hypothesis, she had to go to her cousin's chambers and see if she'd be turned back from the gold cloaks or the Kingsguard before Naerys' door. Ordering the nursemaids to never let the children out of their eyes, she gathered her skirts and hurried down the drawbridge, attracting the shocked looks of those who greeted her at the other end. For a dowager queen, it was indecent to leave her chambers before her lord husband was even buried. She crossed a few courtyards, climbed up the steps leading to a new level of building wondering how soon she'd have to vacate her chambers for the new queen before Aegon evicted her straightforwardly, and was on the terrace of Naerys' chambers when the sight of Mariah stopped her dead in her tracks. The Dornish woman stood near the railing of the terrace watching something in the courts below. Daena stepped next to her and gasped. "He's brought her back!"

As if feeling her eyes, Barba Bracken looked from her litter and bowed her head before her former mistress in a manner that was downright mocking. Glittering with jewels, she had arranged herself in a pose that she undoubtedly considered regal while Daena simply thought it pretentious. Even so – or perhaps particularly because of this – Barba's belly stuck out evidently. Daena was far from Baelor's ideas of chastity but Aegon bringing his mistress here shortly before the coronation, to parade her before his wife who looked as if she was carrying death in her womb shocked her.

"This isn't all," Mariah said without looking at her. "Today, he made her father his Hand."

Daena gasped again. "He threw old Ashford out?"

She had never liked the man. Too old, too stuffy, not amusing or witty at all. But he was highly competent. _No wonder Viserys likes him so much,_ she had used to think. _They're so much alike._ Aegon had sent this capable man packing to offer his spot to the worm whose only merits resided in his daughter's breasts?

"He did," Mariah said darkly.

The pieces were arranging themselves quickly into Daena's mind into a vivid picture – one of horror. "Is she not allowed to visit us?" she asked looking at Naerys' doors.

"She isn't," the Dornish woman replied. "And she isn't allowed to receive us either. Me, at least," she added, checking herself.

"So she won't be allowed to receive me as either," Daena said, numb. Was Naerys going to be a prisoner in a court dominated by Barba Bracken, at least as long as she held Aegon's interest? Was Daena going to be one?

"I want to leave," she told Aegon bluntly. "There is no room for a dowager queen here."

She expected that he'd object, try to coerce her into staying here where he could control her. But to her surprise, he simply smiled. "You're welcome," he said. "Do you wish to leave now?"

Now, Daena saw the trap. It would be indecent for her to leave before her lord husband was even buried – and she didn't have this much decency to afford to lose any part of it. Leaving now meant giving her unborn child and perhaps even Alysanne to rumours. Especially if the babe turned out to be a boy. But how long would it take for the funeral to take place? Weeks? A month? All this time, she had to be here, before Aegon's eyes.

* * *

Daeron arrived two days later. Daena had no idea how he did it but he managed to convince Aegon that the funeral could not be delayed for the sake of everyone having the time to make an appearance. And as she watched the flames overpowering the corpse of the man who had been the most powerful one in the realm, Daena wondered if she'd be allowed to leave the very next week. Her worries were often cut by sadness for the man Viserys had been and the distinct feeling of regret for what they had started building tentatively and what they could have never had.

To her surprise, Aegon was quite partial to her wish to go to Driftmark. So partial that she started at him, stiffening, and tried to guess where the blow would come from. But aside from a few smirks, he was remarkably peaceful. She tried to remember what she had told Barba back at the times when she had still considered her a friend, a confidant. Had she mentioned how much she resented her mother for being weak, unable or unwilling to change Baelor's mind, protect them? Yes, most likely. Imagining how she would live with Queen Daenaera probably amused him greatly.

But the truth was, he did not content himself with the pleasure of imagining her displeasure. In the very night before her leaving, one of Aegon's lickspittles – not even Aegon himself – came to tell her that Daemon would stay at King's Landing and be brought up in the royal household.

"He can't do this to me!" she yelled and saw how the man recoiled. He was afraid of her, scared that she'd unleash her anger towards the absent Aegon onto his own head, which, of course, she would have if she believed it would help any.

She should have known. He had been too amenable, too well-wishing. By the Seven, had she fallen into the same trap that had led to her son's birth in the first place? She had known what Aegon was like and yet she had let him convince her that he wasn't _this_ bad. Now, she had slipped into complacency, letting herself believe that he wouldn't care to harm her.

Harm her?

" _I wouldn't rub shoulders with the wrong people…"_

The wrong people? But who were they? Surely he couldn't mean her mother? Did he mean the Oakenfist? He had certainly meant Mariah… His own son, perhaps? Somehow, despite everything, Daena had never truly believed that he hated Daeron but perhaps he did. He hated her, of this she was certain.

The wrong people? Those who might decide to throw their support behind her son if the child turned out to be a son? Sooner or later, rumours about Viserys' death would start and then a pure Targaryen prince might be worth some consideration. Oh, Aegon was a smart man, truly! Why had she ever doubted that? He had outwitted Viserys, after all. Why not her?

Would he harm Daemon if he deemed her not loyal enough? His own son? But he had killed his _father_. Daena angrily blinked back the tears threatening to escape. She would not cry and she would certainly not give Aegon the pleasure to beg him. He had made his mind. Daemon would stay here and she would become a stranger to him.

He'd likely treat the child well – after all, what use was Daemon of him if Daena believed he was mistreating him already? Besides, Daemon would be the constant reminder of Daena's loose morals. Who could say for sure that her other children were indeed fathered by her royal husband? No, Daemon would be safe here. As to her wish to see him every day and take joy in his accomplishments, she had to admit that she hadn't done it this much even before – she had been quite busy and he was an embarrassment.

What could she do to keep him? Stay here? Aegon could take him from her anyway. He could take Alysanne and the new babe. He could force a new husband on her, someone she would despise…

The next morning, she boarded the ship with her eyes dry and her head held high. She would not give anyone the pleasure of seeing her pain. She had not slept and was so tired that she was unsteady on her legs. The wetnurse stood a few steps back with Alysanne who slept the leaving through. The child in Daena's womb did not move, as if he had decided to give her some rest, at least. Unblinking, Daena watched the shore become smaller and smaller, fade, turn to mist and then nothingness. Just like her queenship. But when she took to her cabin – a lavishly decorated one but with a window so small that it let almost no light in – she collapsed in her bed and slept the sleep of the saved.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented!

 Life at Driftmark was… peaceful. What Daena would have called boring just a few months ago. Perhaps it was because her body was constantly reminding her that she had done it no favours with three children in three years that she didn't consider it such now. There was something soothing in no one expecting anything of her and nothing being as urgent as being unable to wait until the next day if not the one after. Daena slept till noon and then spent the day in lazy reading and sewing – pricking her fingers in the process since she had not taken an embroidery in her hands in more than ten years, since she had first become queen. Sometime in the afternoon, the wetnurse brought Alysanne to her and Daena watched her make her first steps and put everything she found in her mouth with wan interest and the merest hint of warmth. When the little one toddled over to Elaena or their mother, she didn't even mind. With time, Alysanne would learn who her mother was. If Elaena and Queen Daenaera wanted to play nursemaids, she'd leave them to it. She only made some feeble protests when her mother made her walk with her every day but even then, she acquiesced to Daenaera's wishes – something that she had never done in her life for as long as she could remember. She even smiled as she remembered her onetime wish for her mother to disappear so _she_ could wed her father instead.

When twilight crept in, footfalls soft and unheard but fingers gentle, Daena would usually stand at the top of the highest tower in the old dilapidated castle of Driftmark. The sea pulled her in a way it had never done before, not at King's Landing, not here at Driftmark as a child. It was so beautiful. A vast fabric of many colours interwoven in each other under the deft fingers of the Sun Seamstress. Yes, sometimes Daena felt sure that an eight deity should be added to their pantheon, the one that could take the sea and turn it golden, deep blue, sprinkling silver, and burned red all in the same time, leaving the fire that had burned the red rage in the faraway line where sea and sky met.

"I bet Baelor would have loved this," Elaena only said when Daena shared this thought with her, but Daena noticed the concern in her eyes and later heard her telling their mother that she thought Daena was unwell. "It isn't like her, Mother! She's never had much patience for the beauty of tranquil things. And this old ruined castle – could you have imagined that Daena could prefer it to High Tide? She isn't herself."

Queen Daenaera shook her head. "She is," she said. "She's just tired. Just taking her time to gather her strength back. Even Daena needs time to recover after all she had been through."

"She's too faint and uninterested in anything," Elaena insisted. "Even her children."

It was true, Daena had to admit, without any regret. For all the interest she could summon in Alysanne, she could have stayed in King's Landing as well. Even the particulars about Daemon didn't hold much appeal about her anymore. She felt strangely detached from them both.

"She's suffered too much uncertainty and great changes." Daenaera sounded as if she believed what she was saying. "And women who are with child are like this sometimes. Once she gives birth, it will pass."

_Only if the babe is a girl,_ Daena thought with much more feeling than she had experienced in many months. And then, gratitude for her mother slowly fought its way through the languor that enveloped her entire being quite pleasantly. She didn't want to be pitied and she was somewhat surprised that her mother understood her so well – without thinking her weak. Daena had never thought much about her mother – she had always preferred her father. Perhaps she had been wrong?

Even the news of Barba Bracken's fall from grace failed to rouse any emotion except for faint acknowledgment that Aemon and Daeron had done a fine job. The birth and death of Naerys' son invoked unpleasant awareness of babes' frailty and sympathy that was more than the pale stir of sadness mixed with derision she had felt on those occasions before. And the word that Mariah's child would be born soon after her own evoked a faint disappointment for not having known before.

This was ridiculous. She and the Dornishwoman had been Aegon's fellow prisoners, that was all. Not friends of anything like this. Still, the feeling that she should have been told would not go away even as she admired Mariah's strength of character and the ability to hide her state from everyone till Daeron's return.

As much as she was capable of feeling hope, she hoped that Mariah's child would be another boy. That might be Alysanne's sole chance for queenship.

* * *

Aelyx was born in the castle of High Tide, in a bright day of a recently arrived autumn as through her windows that were thrown wide open, Daena could hear the songs of the women gathering the grape harvest far away in the vineyards. For the merest moment, as she lay after expelling the afterbirth, she let the joy of growth and renewal fill her. And then, they showed her son to her.

Horror swept through her, instant and so powerful that it made her clutch the babe so hard that it cried out. The maester came close, concerned, but her mother waved him away.

The child was delightful. Like Alysanne and Daemon, he had been born with very fair skin that immediately turned red with howling and the finest tufts of silvery hair. The waving of his arms was energetic and the voice coming out of his tiny mouth even more so. He was life itself.

He was exactly what Daena did not need at all. Aegon tolerated no rivals – and he saw everyone as his rival, from Daena's late brothers to his own brother.

Brothers, now.

As her each stir to better fit Aelyx against her was a painful reminder of the women's curse she had just gone through, the last months of peace and lazy indulgence of her own languor shot through her mind like a Dornish arrow. She had spent all this time lying around when she should have been winning allies. People who would protect her son like Aemon and Daeron had protected Naerys. _I must have been mad,_ she thought _. I must have been mad but now, I'm back to my senses._

Hadn't she known that she would have to present her new child to the King? For her, it was even more important than any other Queen Dowager. The thought of her grandmother who should have been Queen in her own right yet had been constantly plagued by the rumours of her sons being bastards was never far from her mind but she had managed to push the inevitability aside.

"I must go," she whispered, as if she had to leave right now.

* * *

She had no idea why this was but this birth, her easiest one, left her abed for almost two weeks – two weeks that made her as restless as a cat. The haze veiling her mind had dissipated but her body kept her forcibly away from any activity. The day she was announced well enough to rise, she almost toppled the maester over in her eagerness to escape bed.

"Easy, easy," her mother said, catching her when she started to fall because it turned out that she wasn't well enough to jerk up. Daena leaned her head against Daenaera's shoulder and let her lead her back. She had come to realize that her mother was far stronger than her pampered looks suggested. She wouldn't let her fall.

Aelyx was a month old when they left for King's Landing. She gave Alysanne a long kiss and handed her to Elaena.

"Are you sure you won't take her along?" her sister asked and Daena shook her head. The bright autumn sun turned the sea into a vast length of shimmering silk in blue and gold and warmed her but not enough to drive away the freezing fear. She knew that Aegon wouldn't actually harm Aelyx – most likely – and he had no reasons to harm her daughter but still, she preferred to keep Alysanne as far away from him as possible. She wouldn't have shown Aelyx to him either if she had the choice.

"She has you, doesn't she? And Mother," she added and smiled. "I'll be back before you leave," she added. _I hope so._ Aegon might have some other ideas.

Elaena smiled back. Daena turned to say goodbye to her mother and made a step towards the boat when Elaena ran to her. "If Daeron or Mariah say something about your letters, don't act surprised."

Daena spun around, taken aback. _Don't act surprised?_ She had no idea what her sister was talking about! "What letter? I never wrote any letters…"

"I know! That's why I did. I sent your best wishes on the occasion of her blessed state, I told them that you and Alysanne were fine here…"

Daena stared, agog, mouth agape. "You falsified my handwriting?" She knew that her sister was a master in imitating other people's writing but somehow, she had never imagined that she might find herself on the receiving end.

"Don't screech like this!" Elaena hissed in reply. "We were in agreement that something needed to be done and you just wanted to lie around. Every relation that could be mended is good for you."

They? They had acted behind Daena's back? Anger rose, choking her, but behind, relief demanded to be released. Aelyx had been her hope when Viserys was alive; now, he was just a babe and Daeron was a man grown. A man of standing and power already, it seemed. Would his allegiance be such a bad thing?

* * *

King's Landing received her coldly. With suspicion. Oh no one dared say anything to her face but the whispers would start the moment she turned her back, the eyes picking Aelyx apart glinting with eager gloating or simple but no less jarring passion for gossip. She felt a sudden longing for Viserys. While under his powerful protection, she had been treated as the most chaste woman in the realm, no matter what everyone thought.

The splendour struck her as soon as she entered the Red Keep. The windows of an entire hall were carved in honest gold! She almost stepped forward to make sure that she was seeing right. Splendour? No, vulgarity! She walked through the long hallways, surrounded by laughter and courtiers fluttering like butterflies in their colourful attires. Soon, she rather likened them to flies as they hurriedly bowed to her. Voices now melted in a general impression of twittering. She remembered the time she had wanted to be one of them, reign over like a court like this one. Little had she known of vulgarity! She kept walking, remembering the time when the favourites had all been men of little chirping but masters of their work, the time the Iron Throne had been occupied by a great king whose mind had been as sharp as the blades those lickspittles flaunted.

None of the people who had served Viserys had retained their post. Daena couldn't say she was surprised. Her sudden longing for her dead husband – or was it her uncle that she wanted? – made her wonder fleetingly what had become of the whore. The woman who had loved him. Perhaps Daeron would know.

When she was shown to her chambers – not in Maegor's Holdfast, of course, - she made sure that Aelyx was comfortable in the cradle that she demanded to be moved to her own chamber – and ordered to have Daemon brought to her.

She was prepared to hear that Aegon had left orders to the contrary but instead, her son was shown in almost immediately. Still, the short period of time had been enough for her to go to sleep in her chair. She startled when she felt his eyes on her.

She had written to him, of course, but she didn't even know if he received her letters. He wasn't three years old yet – she expected that he would have forgotten all about her. But he smiled, exclaimed, "Mother!" and processed to show her the new wooden sword the King had ordered for him. Daena tried to keep the smile on her face despite the chill running down her back. Such consistency on Aegon's part? She had counted on him getting bored and letting her take Daemon after a while. What did he want of her child? She did not think that it might be genuine love for his own offspring. Not for a moment.

She wanted to keep Daemon longer but he was itching to go back to the other children and the wetnurse gave her a look of silent apology. Daena waved her off.

Daemon was losing touch with her and that scared her even more than it saddened her.

* * *

When Aegon's hand went down, towards her babe's tiny forehead, Daena had to fight the instinct to draw back and flee. Of course, he didn't pinch Aelyx hard to make him cry or anything like this. Instead, he touched his cheek and smiled. "I am very pleased to see such a hale and hearty boy," he said, with a pointed look at Naerys. With some unwilling respect, Daena saw that her cousin didn't give him the pleasure of looking down or going white. Whatever her grief, she carried it closely guarded in her heart, not showing it to the eager court or Aegon who was even more so.

Aegon produced an emerald, as big as and egg, and Daena nodded at the wetnurse to come and take it. Then, he gave the woman forty dragons – one for each day she had nursed the newborn, and Daena felt increasingly uncomfortable with this much attention. She had feared that he'd refuse to acknowledge her son as a Targaryen'; now she stiffened and tried to find out why he was so very generous.

_Daeron. He wants to use Aelyx against Daeron. To better control his heir._

The temptation of hope was so enticing… Her son the official heir… Dorne being taught her place. Daeron's death avenged. Oh he knew how to seduce her, he did! But Daena knew how fickle he was. At the end, he'd use her and her children the way he wished and then, he'd throw them away… if they were lucky. Aegon had had his father murdered. He'd never accept Aelyx as his heir, no matter what he would imply to prevent her from turning to other allies.

Was she ready to throw in her lot with him? Daena sought the answer in her mind, forbidding the desire of her heart any part in the decision.

No, she wasn't.

As the everyone took their place for the feast, she touched Mariah's hand, briefly. It was smart of Aegon to place her next to the Dornishwoman – the two of them had rarely talked before.

"I'd like to talk to you and Daeron," she said. "As soon as possible."

After a short pause, Mariah nodded and Daena tried to imagine what Elaena had written in those dratted letters of hers.

  


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented for nudging me along!

Mariah Martell did not like Dornish red.

Somehow, this little detail surprised Daena. In the Red Keep, Mariah _was_ Dorne and Daena expected of her to go all Dornish in her chambers – silk robes that, admittedly, would not do in a climate this much colder, exotic fruit that were indeed in abundance. And Dornish red. Well, there was a carafe at the side table but only Daena and Daeron sipped at it while he poured Mariah a goblet of Arbor gold. Not that she touched it this often either. Her swarthy face was so white that Daena knew how exhausting the long feast had been for her. It had ended just an hour ago, well into the afternoon, and while most of the Red Keep was recovering – and making ready for the evening entertainment – Daena had decided that it was the perfect time to discuss some serious matters with Daeron and Mariah. But now, with the Dornishwoman looking so wan, sympathy took over. "I could come at another time," she offered and Mariah gave her a half-smile.

"Unless it's when the babe has already been born, it won't change much," she said.

"I gather it's going to happen soon?" Daena asked and wondered if she was supposed to know. After all, to the best of Daeron and Mariah's knowledge, she had sent them a letter discussion the very day she was now talking about. "Elaena wants to be here when the time comes," she added and they both smiled. Elaena was friends with them… unlike Daena.

"Baelor saw you with the babe," Daeron said and smiled again. "He thought it was Alysanne. He was very disappointed when I told him it was another child."

Daena found herself smiling back, although she didn't know if this was the truth, or simply a way to steer the conversation in a way they both desired. "I gave a long consideration to the situation in the kingdom," she started before she realized how lofty this sounded. And how ridiculous to someone who had known her as long as Daeron. "I think we can be of use to each other," she said, voice low now, for she knew it was her who needed him more. He was Aegon's heir, no matter their differences. He had held Viserys' trust and people knew it. She? She was just a whore made queen. She could give him far less than what he could provide for her… and yet, it was not to be scorned.

Daeron nodded. "Yes," he said. "I imagine that we can."

Still, none of them spoke of what they were both thinking about. Daena had expected that he would – after all, he had been betrothed in his childhood so it shouldn't bother him but it seemed he found talking about the marriage of a very young child to another child who was not yet two profoundly disturbing – when one of the children was his. Daena felt the same way and she found it strange that awkwardness was the first thing they discovered they had in common after knowing each other since his birth. The closes they veered to that was when Daena glanced at Mariah's belly, now clearly visible in her flowing dress, and asked how Mariah felt about the possible marriage of her children – if this one turned out to be a girl.

The other woman's green face told her the answer. Daeron was quick in snatching a cleverly disguised empty pot and pushing it before her, although Mariah somehow managed not to retch.

"Baelor won't marry one of his sisters if the gods decide to give him any," Daeron said calmly. "Or Daenerys, for that matter. I have other plans for him."

Daena nodded that she understood. But she didn't say the words either.

"Will you help me and my children?" she asked instead. "Your grandfather said that you would."

"I will," Daeron said simply. "If you stay at Driftmark, it'll be even easier for me to do so. It isn't far from Dragonstone and that's where we'll be going soon."

That was a surprise to Daena. Dragonstone wasn't this far from Driftmark but she felt the two islands were worlds apart. She admired the great dragon castle but Dragonstone, with its constant bad weather and glumness, was not a place she'd like to live at. She had once argued the point with Daeron who had felt that she was insulting their dragon heritage… The raised voices had drawn their mother's attention from two chambers down the hall.

Daena shook her head to chase the memories away. Why did this Daeron want to live there anyway? And Mariah who came from Dorne of the sun and _heat_?

"Does your lady wife _know_ what Dragonstone is like?" Daena asked and shivered, as if the chill of the place was assaulting her once again. She could almost see the pale shimmer of the volcano sleeping lazily, knowing that it would wake and take its due whenever it decided, so there was no use to hurry. The damp salt that sometimes the wind left on her skin in spots of hardened skin…

"I've only been there once, and I was a child then," Mariah said lightly.

Daeron looked uneasy. "Perhaps I didn't think this through. It isn't very cheerful, Daena is right about this. Perhaps we should…"

"Stay here?" she finished for him. Her voice became low and fierce. "I don't care what Dragonstone is like. I'll make it better. Let's get out of here, Daeron. We'll never be able to make a home in the Red Keep, not now."

She held out a hand and he took it. Daena looked away, as uncomfortable as she had been when she had seen the look on Viserys' woman's face, the look saying that she loved him. She felt like an intruder on something very private.

Mariah looked at her. "When I make sure that Dragonstone is what I want it to be, I hope you and the children visit often. You'll always be welcome." Her smile was not quite happy but it was a smile nonetheless. Daena couldn't bring herself to look quite enthused either, so she could sympathize. And yet, Mariah was trying. Perhaps she wasn't this bad. Viserys had been genuinely fond of her and he had been a good judge of character. _He judged Aegon correctly, eventually._ Almost. Daena was quite surprised by the anger stirring within her breast: how had Viserys _dared_ let Aegon best him, die on her and leave her like this, forming alliances that felt unnatural and demeaning?

No. She should stop thinking like this. Like it or not, she was no longer the Queen but the mother to a possible source of troubles to Aegon. Sure, Mariah still had to give her precedence but she was the Princess of Dragonstone now. Her children – the one Daena had glimpsed earlier trying to jump from a couch, clearly believing that he could fly and the one she was carrying now – were the future. Daena's were the past. If she wanted to give them future, she had to play her cards wisely.

"I will come," she said and drained her goblet because she suddenly needed some additional courage. "I will never take a stand against you, my lord prince. I'll do my best to ease and help you in any way possible against anyone who might wish harm to you and yours."

Daeron nodded and looked down but not quickly enough to hide his expression – horror. After all, Aegon was his father and to hear it all but stated that he might wish – and bring – harm on him, Mariah and Baelor, and even the unborn babe… like he had brought it on the grandfather Daeron had loved… it couldn't be easy on him, no matter what. Daena was painfully reminded the days she had been set aside, shut away, humiliated by her own brother – and she couldn't bring herself to disdain his weakness.

Mariah stirred and Daena had the acute feeling that she was forcing herself not to reach out and take her husband's hand. Envy shook her to the core.

"And I will do my best to help you and your children cope with the vastly changed circumstances," Daeron said. "They will have all the opportunities I can give them, I promise you."

Their eyes met. _A queenship?_ Daena's asked. _Yes,_ Daeron's answered. But again, none of them said the words.

It only occurred to her after many days that he might not have meant Daemon as one of those who would be given opportunities. Or he might have. After all, what harm could there be in giving a bastard the little they could aspire for?

"I'm sure Elaena will also be able to help," Mariah put in. "She was born a diplomat."

Surprise got a laugh out of Daena's throat because it was clear that Daeron's wife did not mean it like a jab. She wasn't angry. She was just showing that she knew about Elaena's attempt at diplomacy. For the first time, she realized why Viserys had considered Mariah amusing.

* * *

Back at Driftmark, she found her sister and mother basically arguing over Alysanne's head. Elaena's screeches could rival Alysanne's when hungry! But they were not what surprised Daena. She was shocked to see her mother shouting right back, her face red. She had never seen Daena losing her composure in such a vulgar manner, shrieking like a fisher woman! Suddenly, the question of how she had come across her own wild nature seemed like it might have just found its answer. After all, Daenaera had never been given the chance to try any form of wildness.

"You will stop this preposterous relationship right now!" she was saying.

"I won't!" Elaena vowed.

For the first time, Alysanne seemed to prefer her mother over both her grandmother and her aunt. She started crawling towards Daena as if she were begging to be rescued. Daena picked her up.

"What's going on?" she asked and they told her at the same time so she couldn't make out a word.

Later this night, Elaena came to her chamber after retiring. Daena who had been brushing her hair beckoned her sister near and started drawing the silver comb through her long tresses, just like she had used to do in the tower. Neither of them spoke.

"Is it truly this very confusing?" Elaena asked. "Me loving him?"

"Yes," Daena said honestly. "He is so old, Elaena. He was ten years older than Father!"

She wasn't sure about the exact number but she knew it was about that. "He's sixty, Elaena, and you are just twenty-two."

"But he's full of strength and vigour!" Elaena insisted. "We can have twenty years together if not more!"

_Twenty years sounds like such a big number to someone who has only lived twenty years,_ Daena reasoned out but since she knew she would have not appreciated being told this under circumstances that resembled her sister's even distantly, she kept her mouth shut. Her astonishment grew at the fierce passion in Elaena's eyes. How could she desire a man who, as strong as he was, was this old? She still remembered her own visceral reaction to Viserys. Although she missed him in so many things, bed was not one of them.

"And he isn't sixty but only fifty-eight!" Elaena insisted, as if that made such a great difference. "He'll take me aboard his ships to see the world he already knows!" she went on and the attraction suddenly became clearer to Daena. Elaena wanted the world and she felt like the one who had seen and experienced it in the manner their uncle had could give it to her. "When we wed…" she went on and Daena stared.

"You can't mean to wed him!" she exclaimed. "He already has heirs. Our cousins, remember? What would such a marriage bring you?"

"Love," Elaena said without hesitation and this time, Daena wanted to grab and shake her, much like their mother had reportedly done. "It's going to be such a romance," she went on, her eyes shining. "Bards will sing of our love for each other…"

Daena tried not to hear her because the sheer ludicrousness of it made her want to tear her hair out. Elaena? Throwing her chances away like she had? In twenty years, she'd be left alone to shoulder the responsibilities of life and children, much like their mother had! And that was if events unfolded in the best way possible!

The worst part of it was that day after day, Daena became increasingly confident that the Oakenfist was not as in love in Elaena as she was with him. Sure, he was flattered by her infatuation. She invigorated him. But Daena never saw him look at her sister with the longing and strive, and anger that he had stared at Baela with when he thought no one saw him. He never looked at her for approval after making a drawn-out decision. Of course, Elaena couldn't see it. What an odd and mysterious thing human heart was!

"I will wed him one day," Elaena vowed and Daena didn't even ask if she was sure _he_ wanted to wed her. She remembered all too well her own certainty that an aging mistress could never contend with a young and beautiful wife - and how quickly Viserys had taught her otherwise. Likewise, Elaena was sure that she could make Alyn Velaryon forget his fondness for his late disfigured wife in his passion for her. Daena wondered... But his death in the sea made it all a moot point.

* * *

For herself, Daena intended to wed again but not again. Not so soon. There wasn't even a Great House with a lord or heir free to wed. But she was in no hurry. Taking a husband would mean getting with a new child and she did not cherish the prospect. She cherished the time she spent hunting, riding, entertaining the esteemed guests that paid her visits before or after their visits to Daeron and Mariah – increasingly often as the number of the people displeased with the corruption and whims of Aegon's court increased _. I am doing it for the children_ , Daena repeated over and over as she sat through endless receptions when she could have gone riding. Alysanne's queenship, Aelyx' future gave her enough reasons to lend her support to Daeron in any way she could.

Taking a husband would certainly make her nightly entertainments harder to achieve. She loved revealing herself to her lovers – all young and built like the Warrior himself – in nothing but the pendant her father had left her.

From time to time, she traveled to Dragonstone, the isolation at Driftmark doing wonders for helping her forget Mariah's Dornishness. She couldn't say she had truly befriended the woman but she certainly viewed her with more affection now and each visit there made her feel more welcome. She could understand why Elaena loved Mariah and Daeron both. And when she heard of Aegon's plan to wage war on Dorne again, she met the idea with far less pleasure than twenty years ago, when she had first heard it from the other Daeron, the one who had forever stayed eighteen.

It was Daemon who told her, at one of her annual visits at court. He grew more and more distant from her as his life went on without her in it but his charm laid a nice coverage on this reality that still saddened Daena – him, not this much. His bubbling excitement and glorious contentment with life and his own person always made her smile. But when he rattled out the news of teaching Dorne her place, her smile froze. Somehow, it felt improper for a child who had no idea of war and whose place was what to glory in such news. And why did he even know? Who had taken upon themselves the task to tell him?

"We won't suffer Dorne any longer," Daemon claimed proudly. "It's a shame that Prince Baelor should resemble them so."

Who?

Well, _he_.

The realization that Aegon showed no signs of forgetting about her six-year-old son chilled her to the bone. Daemon was surrounded by attendants and tutors who carefully fanned casual, child's, meaningless hatred towards Dorne, Daeron, Baelor… and by extention, Alysanne. Alysanne who would be Baelor's queen.

Why was that? Aegon did not need to pay any particular attention to the child, he only used him as a leverage against Daena, refusing her plea to let her take him with her once again.

"I agree it's sad that he doesn't know his brother and sister this much," he said, "but that's just how it is."

With a sinking heart, Daena once again remembered that Aelyx and Alysanne felt better with Daeron's sons than they did with Daemon.

"I might send him to you after we celebrate our victory," Aegon went on. Daena did not believe him, of course. She just stared at him, purple eyes sinking deeply in the midst of all the flesh he had acquired quite unsightly, and wondered how she could have ever forgotten what he was like, how she could have ever found him attractive.

The victory never came. Instead, Aegon's ridiculous dragons got destroyed in the mountain passes… and Mariah's child arrived a month earlier, not the monstrosity Aegon and his lickspittles envisioned but a child so vigorous that everyone gaped. Daena felt a pang of shame when the rumour of Mariah's bad state reached her and her first thought was, _I suppose Daeron won't take any risk now. There won't be any more children for them._ Four sons and no daughter now or any time soon – she could see it in Daeron's drawn face, the way he tried to convince himself that in two weeks, Mariah would be fine.

A residual concern that had always huddled in the back of her mind melted away, making her free in ways she had never imagined.

Mariah did indeed recover. Not in two weeks but six. At least, six weeks later she was able to rise from her bed but the question of leaving her chambers could not even be broached. Naerys was bedridden again with one of her fevers so it was Daena who had to sit next to Aegon as he received the Dornishmen who had come to renew the treaty he had broken.

She couldn't deny that she quite enjoyed being the principal lady at court, as short-lived as it was. Her experience at Driftmark helped her plan magnificent entertainments – a tourney, a water display by the fleet, although Elaena murmured that it was downright wasteful of her. Daena never came to know if she meant the tourney or the water display. The latter, she supposed, because Elaena had never minded tourneys before.

It felt so strange to watch the preparations knowing that no dragon would take part in the joust. Aemon was forbidden by the King to do so. Daeron was unable to and Aegon's limitations were even greater than his son. His increasing girth would soon make him feeble if he didn't check himself – and Daena was sure he wouldn't. As she inspected the field, more than once her mind turned to the time of Daeron's reign, with his love for battle in all shapes, and she realized that despite all his failings, she still considered him the greatest king since Aegon's Conquest, greater than Aegon himself. Reason had nothing to do with this.

She shivered. She'd better stop thinking about the past. Daeron was dead. Viserys would not come back either, yet she felt as if they both walked with her as she went on with the inspection under the rain that started falling, having no idea that soon, a summer fever would take her to the bed that she'd only leave for the pyre claiming all Targaryens at the end.

* * *

**The End**

 


End file.
